


Heart of a Beast

by Nezanie



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Crimson Flower and Verdant Wind mixed events for a semi-canon but not really fanfic, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Mari centric fic with deuteronogists Edel/Byleth, Multi, NB!she/they Byleth, Tall Marianne au cuz that girl ain’t just 5’4, TransformingUnit!Marianne AU, Violence, a what if scenario fanfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23136067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nezanie/pseuds/Nezanie
Summary: Sleepless nights filled with nightmares, and days spent hiding away from the sun’s warmth. It was the norm for Marianne von Edmund, even at a tender age the first thing her birth father taught her was how to mingle with the shadows, away from sight. Her crest and the ugly other self, inhumane and ferocious, that it brought with it must never see the light of day.When her adoptive father sends her away to Garreg Mach, she doesn’t know what to make of it, at first she thinks it’s just another life of secrecy away from where she had grown used to. Then all of a sudden it all goes topsy turvy as Hilda is hellbent in getting into her personal bubble and a new teacher at school turns the gears of fate in motion.
Relationships: Dorothea Arnault/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth, Marianne von Edmund/Hilda Valentine Goneril, there might be others but not focused on
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Prologue: New Life at Garreg Mach

**Author's Note:**

> This is me being bitter that the crest of the beast isn't actually belonging to a tribe of transforming units which are my favourites but alas. also i love marihilda and edeleth so mash them up and you get a retelling of fe3h.

‘Dear Goddess, if I may ask one wish from you in my entire life, I beg of you to take me to your side,’

Marianne opening her eyes, lowering her arms from her bosom - hands tightly clasped together, enough to turn her knuckles white - fervent praying did not change the view of the majestic sight that Garreg Mach monastery was. If only she was ever so lucky to have one wish granted rather than being here in the midst of strangers she may hurt. Once again she started wondering how her adoptive father would risk having her come to this institution with her precarious condition. 

Margrave Edmund was distant, cautious and awkward with Marianne despite adopting her right after she lost her parents. He was not a cruel man, Marianne had come to respect him and he provided her with all the commodities a girl could desire even though she really had no use for some of the more peculiar luxuries nobility seemed to not be able to do without. Her birth parents were minor nobles with not much land, they lived much simpler lives and she had liked it that way but it was not her place to be rude to her adoptive family. The Margrave kept her fed making sure she didn’t skip meals, cared for her even though Marianne never had quite an appetite especially after her parents vanished. He had patiently awaited the moment she wouldn’t hide behind locked doors and finally talk to him. One day she did, his broad shoulders relaxed and he gave her a small smile, a pat on the head and watched her grow quietly.

Marianne was as observant as she was clumsy, she noticed he never really looked her in the eye, and that suited her just fine since she rarely liked looking straight at people either. She couldn’t take the way the nobility observed her, whispering behind her back as it was announced she would enter the Edmund family. There was judgement in their eyes and soon the young girl that always felt like running away turned into a youth that preferred to stare at the sole of people’s feet as they talked. The man who became her new father must have noticed, he didn’t insist on any more parties or events after that. He didn’t impose anything on her until now.

It worried her immensely, this sudden change, there was always a thought at the back of her mind about how the pestering scholar that drove her true parents nuts might have just been right, maybe she was a monster. The crest she bore belonged to a traitor, a killer, a ruined man and his descendants were cursed with his beastly blood.  
Maybe it was her fault her parents disappeared or perhaps her father had succumbed to the crest of the beast, why else would they leave her behind? She must have been too much trouble to take with them. Her thoughts turned negative whenever Marianne would think of herself, they froze her on the spot, fear preventing her from following the chattering new students towards the looming gates.

‘What...am I to do?’ she thought halfheartedly pulling at a strand of her hair by her ear.

With the exception of the colour of her hair, a trait carried by the bearers of the crest according to her father, Marianne’s features were closer to her mother’s - her dad always seemed to smile down at her as he ruffled her hair, the very same colour as his own, and never quite noticed his child smiling down at her feet as he did. He always said it made him happy to know she carried something of his.

‘Yet it must have been a lie, look at me now, all alone,’

Even when everybody pointed out how Marianne resembled her, she couldn’t quite believe her kind, brave, beautiful and loyal mother was anything like her - scrawny, fretty and prone to scare jumps even as a child. It always seemed that they humoured her. 

Her mother had been quick to leap to the defense of her beloved husband and child earning herself a name as a crest scholar. She wanted to find evidence that the curse was bogus, that there was beauty in their heritage.

‘There is good in your heart, so much good, there is no way either of you would be spawn of evil, it’s undocumented nonsense and i’ll prove it!’ she’d grumble amongst the dust, ancient books and scrolls scattered around her, waving her quill as she furiously took notes. It was a fond memory even though time had made her quite certain of her mother’s mistaken assumption.

Sadly, the quest for knowledge on the crest of Maurice and those who bear it brought only misfortune in Marianne’s eyes. They had to frequently move from village to village and only settled in a small barn outside of a small village, nearly by its borders, and very close to territory that was not of the Alliance. It hadn’t been so long ago yet she wasn’t quite sure where exactly they had been, so turbulent were the last few days in her former home her memory faltered and it wasn’t too long that after that Marianne was ended up all alone.

Marianne fondly remembered her mother’s smile amidst the haziness of her childhood ventures. The love she’d transmit simply with a look was something reserved for Marianne and her father. As a young adult, in her most difficult times when the seeds of doubt crawled from the darkest depths of her own mind making her wonder if she had just imagined such a beautiful expression, she concluded it might have possibly been actually her most strained expression. Marianne struggled every time because of her parent's love, the one thing she never wanted to let go of. Venturing from the confines of the Edmund territory had made her remember too much all at once.

Her father had been rather haggard looking, always seemingly exhausted - looking rather worse than she ever did - even when he effortlessly worked the fields. Farming had made him happy, he loved nature. Their useless title bore little money or power, and he didn’t try to be anything more than any other townsfolk with no crest especially in an Alliance were those who held seats of power had all the major territories under their control.  
The crest they bore had taken a toll on him, even though he was a big, strong man his hunch made him lose all the imposingness of his stature. Seeing that abominable crest manifest in his only daughter had made him even more distraught. His eyes would linger sadly on her stealthily yet Marianne had always felt them on her back. Nowadays, Marianne would look in the mirror and see the very same tired, blank stare. 

Where her mother encouraged her, her father sheltered Marianne teaching her how to remain inconspicuous. The seventeen year old found his ‘wisdom’ handy when trying to avoid people. She always told herself that she didn’t want to hurt anybody and it was logical that if she had nobody by her side, not even one precious person, she wouldn't hurt a soul. And she wouldn’t break ever again, she couldn't be hurt in return if she didn’t care about people, right?

Her adoptive father, Margrave Edmund, had caught wind of her parents...disappearance rather late. He came for her, a large muscled frame of a man, he could probably single handedly take on a demonic beast unarmed from his looks. His eyes were softer than the rest of his rough looking self, though he was a man of few words, he gently picked up the little thin, muddied girl announcing she would be his sole heir and took her to a new home. She’d been out on the streets for months before living on scraps that the alley cats kindly pointed out for her.  
Margrave Edmund mostly left Marianne to her own devices as she grew into an awkward, unremarkable youth. One day, he announced rather suddenly, as her seventeenth birthday came closer she would be attending Garreg Mach Monastery in hopes she could learn how to properly govern their territory. 

Marianne quite obviously panicked, she had always thought of the land as the Margrave’s own and it never sunk in she would eventually be replacing him. The years had not put a dent in the stoic man’s armor, he sat straight and proud at the dinner table as he repeated the words to the starstruck Marianne. Her eyes traveled to his peppered hair, she noticed the way his hand trembled as he raised his fork, when had he grown so old?  
When she was certain her ears had not been playing tricks and definitely had not mishead, her tongue slipped in front of the maids, “What of the frenzied nights?”  
The servants curiously peered at her, confused at her quip. She stiffened nails digging into her arms as she cursed her own ineptitude for keeping calm.

The Margrave waved his mighty hand, a chiding stare making the poor girl flinch. He dismissed the servants before continuing their discussion, though Marianne wasn’t sure how much of a say she had. As she suspected, it really was just a speech for her to take in, mull over and come to terms with his wishes.  
He placed his chin perched on his folded hands, expression solemn and spoke only when he was sure they were alone.

“I’ve prepared an ample amount of precautions for your stay to keep you...calm. The monastery is big and I've given sizable donations to have a small part of the place, let’s say reserved, for about once a month. Every full moon perhaps?” he took a sip of his wine as Marianne quivered at his words. “It’ll be easy to follow the Moon’s cycle won’t it? I know it may be frustrated however it is the best we have been offered,”

“Once a month, that’s too little,” she gaped at a loss for words, she could barely control it enough to stop it from happening once a week let alone all that time.

“Learn to control it, it is a part of you,” he said strictly, his tone wasn’t harsh even if it’s underlined message was for her to give the argument a rest, believing if he was adamant that she obey. His belief in her abilities only rendered her more fearful.  
“You can make your crest yours, and you’d do well to learn soon. You are no longer a child, uphold my name and make me proud.” He locked eyes with her gaze and so powerful was his gaze she could never look away even though she was no longer the frightened child who barely knew him, “There will be no other buts…”

“Yes, sir...father,” Mariane said dejectedly, correcting herself in the knick of time. There was a semblance of sadness in the way his eye twinkled at her mistake, it was gone in a blink and soon to be replaced by his usual stern gruff, neutral expression he reserved for work. She could only comply.

…  
The few months remaining she had in her adoptive father’s home passed far too quickly. She thought her unique situation was easier to handle but the monthly hideout still concerned her. Walking up to the gates of her new school holding tightly onto her hand luggage took most of her energy now that her recollections drained her. She wanted to bolt and never look back, and Marianne knew she could not, absolutely not.

Garreg Mach was terrifyingly impressive up close. It looked rather like a fortress sitting atop a hill, secluded and well defended by the knights of Seiros patrolling every border and rather than a school it felt like a prison. Considering the classes she would be taking in order to be able to take on some rather dangerous activities required to graduate it was rather fitting as an image. This was a place where she would be molded for society as the church deemed fit. And to a child lacking ambitiousness like Marianne it suited her just fine. It didn’t really matter as long as this year passed quickly.

She just needed to drag herself and the last of her belongings to her new abode and deal with it. Her face naturally lowered to her feet as they shuffled one step after another. ‘What if Father’s plan doesn’t work, what if someone sees me and I ruin everything? Just like every…’

“Are you well? Is something wrong? Your smells all sorts of weird,” a someone addressed her excitedly, speaking so fast Marianne almost didn’t catch their questions.

She didn’t realise the voice didn’t belong to a human until she heard the snuffling sound of the puppy’s snout as he climbed up her leg taking another whiff of her. At the very least, she thought immediately calmed by the presence of the little hunting dog at her feet, the accursed crest let her have one pretty marvelous ability. Even though she wasn’t sure how it worked, the crest of the beast she harbored allowed some of its bearers to communicate with animals. Her birth father had told her though he hadn’t been blessed with the ability, he did love animals like she did.  
Some critters approached her freely, others were a little wary at first, both for the blood she bore and the fact she was human. It was the one thing that kept her sane in the lonely years of her childhood even if it meant to further divide her from her peers.  
Animals loved to talk just for the sake of it or for a specific need, there was no lofty demands, judgements and simply said what they had in mind. They had a sort of live and let live mentality and fought only for survival that she admired. She especially loved horses and wyverns finding a ride blissful freedom from the problems she had to face once back within the walls of the Edmund estate.

Marianne crouched down offering a hand, the puppy showed off his ear loving a good pamper and she scratched lightly behind the long, flappy appendage.

“Oh, thank you! That’s so nice of you,” he barked happily, a few students giggled at the happy yips of the dog, Marianne bowed her head so her hair could hide her smile.

“I should be the one thanking you,” she replied, running a hand along his soft back, “I was feeling a little overwhelmed.” Confessing her secret, even to a puppy who couldn’t quite understand her troubles made her feel a bit less like jelly that was ready to fall apart. Now that her mind stopped running ahead of her, she could think clearly and look for a better approach to this new chapter of life.

“Oh right, you’re new! Don’t worry, just look out for old Dorte,” he half climbed on her lap, wagging his tail, joyful at being so diligent in giving a helping hand, “She’s the biggest mare in the stables, she’s super strong and super wise,”

The stables…? Her father had said something rather important about them but she shouldn't dwell on it for now seeing as the little one nearly fell off onto its back had she not caught the puppy.

“T-thank you,” she stuttered, suddenly catching the chattering going on behind her, “I’ll be sure to speak to her.” There were more than a few passing by students whispering as they eyed her, she tensed instinctevely, hunching down as if the ground could help her and rise up to cover her shame. She’d done it again, attracted unneeded attention.

“Hey?” the puppy whimpered, sensing her distress he put his nose to her cheek, “Hey, can i help? What's wrong?”

Marianne shook her head, there was no helping her, and he whined long and hard, licking her cheek in an attempt to raise her spirits.

“Oh, what a cutie!”

Marianne jumped on the spot when a grinning face came to full view, a little too close for comfort with the puppy in hand who yelped at the sudden jolt. She nearly slipped moving to try and stand since her body sensed she was falling, in an attempt to regain her balance with the puppy in her arms. Her luggage wasn’t as lucky toppling over when she hit it with her side however she managed to stay on her feet.

A girl about her age with the brightest hair colour she had ever seen was patting the dusty (and quite short, Marianne had to make sure to look away when she got up) skirt of her uniform. Beside her was a younger, disgruntled white haired girl that seemed to be scolding her older peer.

“Hilda, I told you to introduce yourself first, anybody would be startled,” the younger girl growled.

Hilda, the girl in question, just laughed it off, turned to Marianne and gave her lazy half-bow, “Sorry! We just wanted to see your cute friend that you’re holding on to! He’s just too adorable, isn't he Lysithea!”

“Since when are we on a first name basis? Lady Valentine Goneril we may be classmates but we’re…” Lysithea stopped herself with a huff, she shook her head deciding an argument wasn’t going to get her anywhere especially since Hilda was all eyes on the blue haired, shaking teenager before them, “I’ll admit the puppy is rather cute, though I think we’re scaring his owner,”

“Oh, I’m not the owner, he’s probably the monastery dog,” the girl whispered, correcting her with such a tiny voice Lysithea was squinting hard, tilting her head so her ear could catch all of the reply.

“Oh, oops, I guess it’s kinda weird when someone just comes up to you and starts talking,” Hilda chirped on completely unphased, “I should’ve introduced myself, I’m Hilda Valentine Goneril, I’ll be joining the Golden deer class this year,”

Marianne peered upwards from dusting her skirt, those were definitely names she recognized. She was aware of all the nobles and their children in her home territory, the Leicester Alliance, her adoptive father was adamant she memorized them for future reference even if she had yet to attend any formal dinners and parties thanks to her little problem.

“Lysithea of House Ordelia, and likewise, I'm a new member of this year’s golden deer class,” the other girl contributed as Marianne lowered the puppy and mumbled a farewell. He didn’t seem to trust her state of mind and huddled to her leg. She was very relieved about it opting to keep an eye on the puppy instead of her.Lysithea wore a proud grin as she introduced herself, “How do you do?”

“My name is Marianne, I’ll also be joining the Golden deers,” she muttered quickly in reply, giving a courteous bow and eyeing the gates. It wouldn’t do to escape, she didn’t want to ruin the Margrave’s good name.

“Oh!” Hilda had definitely heard that name before, the mysterious daughter of the rising noble Margrave Edmund that many loved gossiping about wildly and nobody really knew what was fact or fictitious any longer. Lysithea gave her a nudge having probably figured it out as well, the fair lady before them seemed right about ready to keel over with discomfort and she needed Hilda to calm down.

The puppy gave a little ruff by her leg, Marianne turned her eyes on him again and nearly giggled at his cute introduction. Obviously she had been the only one to understand him so she would have to translate. 

“Aww!” Hilda crouched down to pat his head, “Who are you handsome fellow?”

“This is Brownie,” Marianne blurted as the overexcited beagle scratched her foot barking for her to answer Hilda for him. 

Hilda cooed rubbing his face in a friendly manner, “That’s adorable!”  
Somehow she managed to pull down Lysithea who had to stop her agreeable nods and finally looked her age as she laughed when Brownie was licking at her fingers. Marianne thought it was rather cute, they weren’t bad people.  
‘I shouldn’t stay any longer and inconvenience them, I have to find a way to politely take my leave,’ she concluded sadly lost in her sullen thoughts to not notice she was the subject of a conversation very close by.

“So this is Marianne von Edmund, she really does exist, huh?” Hilda whispered to Lysithea peeking up at the fidgety girl who was still standing in front of them trying to look small. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere which suited Hilda and her curiosity. She was so tall it was rather difficult to do so without her neck hurting.

“You’re not going to bully her or something?” Lysithea hissed back in jest taking a quick look herself. Since their new acquaintance always seemed to look downwards they got a better look at her face now, it was rather pretty. What concerned Lysithea was how she could see something familiar in those puffy, round eyes that she wondered if the girl really had an incurable disease like some had started to speculate. 

‘She doesn’t have white hair, I must be mad to think something like…’ Lysithea shuddered at her dark thought and remembered the most obnoxious rumor, although she’d refuse to admit it bugged her, ‘At least she wasn’t a ghost or something, I knew that was silly,’

Hilda rolled her eyes grabbing her new friend’s shoulder and shook her, “Do I really look like the type?” Lysithea laughed a little cruelly making her disgruntled new acquaintance huff.

“Erm, I’m sorry, I...think we should start moving,” Marianne interjected and leaned down, a hand extended to tap Hilda but she stopped short, even when calling them she never even looked at them once in the whole conversation. Hilda started to wonder if this was really the daughter of the Margrave Edmund? The man was known not only for his large stature, handsome and strict nature but for his knack of drawing out the best of his people in order to work together with his inspiring, colourful speeches. Marianne could barely introduce herself unlike her bold and headstrong father who made his presence known wherever he marched. And there wasn’t much of a resemblance except for her height.

Lysithea and Hilda took a quick look around and noticed she was right. There were just a few stragglers with one too many suitcases left on the way across to the gates where their family dropped them off. It was just the trees, cool breeze and a couple of chirping birds.

“She seems normal enough,” Lysithea murmured to Hilda as they got to her feet. Hilda nodded feeling her eye trail along Marianne's skinny looking frame. There was a little too much uniform to really decipher her physique accurately.  
‘She seems like a serious type, maybe she could help me with some classes,’ Hilda plotted happily.Normally she would steer clear of trouble and didn’t like to take on anything that could have her working her butt off. Hilda was a curious cat by nature and as Marianne piqued her interest she warmed up to the idea of unraveling the mystery around this rabbit-like girl.

Smiling warmly, Hilda decided to trust her gut and moved her hand into Marianne's line of sight, she waved it before opening it up invitingly, “You’re right, we should get going, pleasure to meet you Marianne! I hope we can be pals!”

Marianne gaped at her for a moment, raising her head from the hand held out to her for the very first time to coming face to face with Hilda. Hilda’s expression was amicable, and so radiant she had to blink. Her easygoing smile reached pretty, bright eyes that matched her hair. Nothing like this ever happened to her before, people usually didn’t make her look at them. Her face felt suddenly rather hot.  
Marianne found she was taking a deep breath and lunged to take Hilda’s hand just as the girl was about to retreat. Her ears felt so uncomfortably warm now as she slowly, uncertainty gave the first shake. Hilda grinned even wider -not that Marianne could see having shut her eyes in embarrassment- it wasn’t until Hilda was pulling her along that she gave a soft squeak, nearly had her forget her luggage if it wasn’t for Lysithea.

“Hilda! Wait up, don’t just run off Marianne has luggage!” Lysithea waved a hand to no avail. “Ugh, Hilda’s gonna owe me a whole cake I swear.” begrudgingly, she picked up the thing grumbling all the while and heaved. “How heavy is this thing?” Lysithea picked up the pace to the best of her abilities following the pair, a poor apologetic looking girl getting dragged off by Hilda. Lysithea felt her blood boil at the scene.

“Scratch that, she owes me a whole confectionary!”

Life at Garreg Mach was sure off to an interesting start.


	2. Intermission 0.1: The Mercenary and The White Feathered Eagle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Byleth's life takes a new twist when three students with entwined fate change the course of their existance and awaken a slumbering being in their heart and something along with it that perplexes the youth.
> 
> Tags: NB!Byleth (femalepresenting avatar)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: intermission chapter 0.1 is finally done, the chapters titled intermission are basically focusing other characters in this case on Byleth and Edelgard (and maybe another character or two). The main focus of the main story is Marianne but I wanted to write about other characters within the lore of this 'AU' and these segments came to life!!

Life was as the saying goes: same old, same old. This was the never to be changed norm for Byleth Eisner and they never really thought this  _ always _ of theirs would vanish. Their father, Jeralt, would take up a bunch of odd jobs, then their group would travel around, get some other job requests in every village they stopped and soon trot over to the next spot for the next batch of requests. 

This kind of life - mostly thanks to Jeralt’s fame - would easily pay the expenses for food, lodgings and any other necessities. However, Byleth’s favourite pastime would be when they’d often nap around the bodies of water they could fish from. They loved the times their dad would decide it was better to camp out. It was rather boring otherwise. Jeralt would peek at their quiet child; Byleth was yet to become an adult in his eyes, give a wry smile and suggest it just to see the little twinge of relaxation in their facial muscles.

How could it have been so easy for three wayward Garreg Mach students to shake up that typical existence into something compelling, challenging, and cause the first stir in their chest? Byleth had only just been awakened from their daily nap expecting another day of being the same old ashen demon, and indeed they got a little action in the most bizarre events of their existence.

Byleth couldn’t explain why, how or what exactly it all had happened. Fighting criminals was their bread and butter, watching as the bandit lunged at the white haired girl - a spectacle they had often seen before - had triggered something unlike anything a person monikered to be akin to a demon had ever felt before. As if on instinct their feet moved with a life of their own shielding an acquaintance they barely knew anything about from harm with their own body. 

Byleth was not the type to be cruel; Jeralt had taught them the value of life and camaraderie and the child had taken to them positively. They just couldn’t understand the stronger emotions displayed from their friends and family, the impulsive pull of the heart had never been something that made the decisions for them. Rational thought and a firm grip on the hilt of their sword was closer to their modus operandi. In that one hotblooded instant something changed: their heart trembled.

Up until the deadly experience, all their world revolved around being the perfect mercenary and the greatest legacy to Jeralt: The Blade Breaker’s little girl. They never really understood why people need to put everything in some category. Whether they were a man or a woman didn’t stop them from swinging a sword, did it? And Byleth was good at it, eventually the title Ashen demon followed them around even more than their parentage as they sponged off their father’s teachings, growing taller, stronger and unnerving to their comrade in arms. It wasn’t that the name bugged the young mercenary, it was just that they carried an impression with them and Byleth grew lonelier as the years went by. One day, the child in them became an adult that stopped trying to mingle.

“It’s just we do our stuff well, maybe too good for folks to wrap their minds around, lassie,” Jeralt had answered Byleth when they asked about their nickname. His daughter’s vacant stare was all the reply he needed. Dissatisfaction was scalding from a family member especially when there was nothing the doting father could do to change things.

Byleth was calculative, they addressed the situation in a manner that would get the job done how it pleased them: with minimal losses. Their difficulty in expressing themselves didn’t mean they had neither likes or dislikes. Byleth hated goodbyes, especially when a member of their team died; an event that wasn’t rare enough for their tastes. It wasn’t just that losing people meant work would become harder, it was something more: an emptiness they ached to express. It was not good, their mind and body knew it, and yet how could they reflect it’s essence? It was just that their face or actions didn’t quite show it, the unpleasantness of it all. Even if it was devastatingly present.

Perhaps it was that idea of disliking death which spurred the mercenary to make such a noble sacrifice without a thought for their wellbeing. That one instant was the trigger of it all. A spark that lit a fire! Byleth changed within, their path broken up into endless possibilities and a soul stirred from slumber within awakening a part of Byleth that they had thought numbed forevermore.

Sothis looked down at her vessel, miffed and crying shrilly in their anger; a tiny green haired child filled with power and rage that scolded Byleth and made them realise that something was starting to turn in their lives. Gears were set in motion that not only awakened a power that saved two lives but also those of many more they would touch. That they met? That they will meet soon enough? How could this all be so familiar? 

For the first time, Byleth was intrigued by the changing world around them, the familiarity that instilled a calmness in them even if these emotional sparks were all so new. Small but new! 

As the quirky Knight of Seiros flustered their father and they were pulled along for a ride to Garreg Mach monastery, a place their father knew well, Byleth thought long and hard.

Their newfound interest in things they didn’t know anything about the life Jeralt lead before he became a mercenary was surprising, comforting and delightful. They never really asked their father anything about themselves or their mother and suddenly found it silly how it never occurred to them to nag him about it on one of their fishing trips. 

_ ‘I still have time, I can...grow!’  _

“Of course you can, kid, go for it,” Sothis laughed shakily at their enthusiasm, it was something so banal she couldn't help it even if the implication nagged her at the core. 

Byleth’s attention soon turned to their new acquaintances. Jeralt was busy reminiscing with Alois, the knight that dragged him back towards a past he didn’t seem ready to share. Byleth could wait, patience was a virtue they didn’t lack. For now.

The three lords were around Byleth’s age, though their histories seemed to vary; their fate was clearly entwined in a mesh that might lead to blood or camaraderie. At the very least Edelgard, Claude and Dimitri seemed to get along on surface level. The small talk on their journey towards the institution that schooled them had given very little away of their true nature, especially when it came to Claude and Edelgard. 

First impressions could shape the world between the people involved. Dimitri seemed to wear his heart on his sleeve and yet Byleth couldn’t relax around him, feeling something boiling beneath. Claude was friendly in mannerisms alone, he always seemed to be within arms reach and when you tried to reach him he would be further away than you thought. His eyes betrayed a cunning nature. And Edelgard? Byleth was confused, she wasn’t showing anything more than Byleth needed to see. The mistrust was evident.

“This would be your first time at the monastery, I’d be happy to show you around,” Dimitri addressed them casually, snapping Byleth out of their reverie.

Claude gave an easygoing grin,a sneak peak of what to expect, “It really is Fodlan in a nutshell, the good and the bad,”

Edelgard spoke up without a thought, surprising Byleth as she didn’t really join in their conversation unless directly spoken to. “Like it or not, we’ll be there soon,”

Byleth’s gaze lingered on the girl, it felt as if there was something hidden underneath those words or was it Byleth expressing paranoia? Perhaps they had lived too long in a turbulent world discerning the words of friend or foe alike in order to survive.

_ ‘I like her eyes, they’re beautiful, as if i’m staring right into a crackling fire, _ ’ they thought absently looking up towards the gateway leading up to the impressive territory of the Garreg Mach monastery. 

“There it is, Garreg Mach monastery,” Edelgard introduced Byleth to their new home.

Rather than a school it made them think of an imposing castle, and from what little Jeralt had explained it was wasn’t that far off. The Church of Seiros held power, one that could change the world to sing the tune its leader orchestrated.

And when their father whispered the name of the archbishop so reverently, Byleth knew immediately who it was that called the shots. A figure so authorative that even from high up above Byleth could feel the ardence of her stare. The archbishop and leader of the Church and it’s Knights. 

“Rhea’s here…”

Byleth formed a little frown upon meeting the eyes of the imposing woman, she was looking down upon them from high up that it felt like their neck would crack in position. ‘ _ Rhea…?’ _

She was a beautiful woman, unexpectedly Byleth felt she had seen this lady before. This confusion coupled with the discomfort made them look away. There was kindness in her eyes but something unsettling hidden deep within Rhea’s stare.

Somehow Byleth didn’t quite feel everything would be going quite right. They didn’t realise it might have to do with Sothis fervently kept repeating the name  _ ‘Rhea’  _ in their heart until she groaned, declaring she couldn’t dwell on a weird hunch all day long. It had been a long day for the dweller in Byleth’s inner self.

Life at Garreg Mach was certainly going to be curious. And it didn’t take long to start being intriguing to Byleth and their freeloader a perplexing degree: Sothis’ existence, Rhea and their father’s history, the three class leaders' interest in the mercenary and Byleth’s newfound curiosity and state of being. It was also all rather exhausting.

“Nothing to say about this turn of events,” Jeralt seemed amused by Byleth’s reaction, a small dent had formed between their girl’s eyebrows: was that an actual frown? .

“It’s rather unexpected,” Byleth replied, a textbook response as always. Jeralt smiled, clapped a hand on their back and said nothing more.

“Hello there!” 

The greeting cut their banter short and Jeralt quickly took off leaving his child with the two exuberant coworkers. The voluptuous woman Manuela seemed to be a little sloppy and yet there was undeniable kindness in her eyes, one that pulled Byleth to her and didn’t freak them out; there was more to her than met the eye. The bespectacled man was a Crest scholar: Hanneman was his name. Byleth hummed in thought at the new term and resolved to ask him more about it later. He seemed like a gentleman with a noble air and that betrayed his former status. It was uncommon for the nobility to work let alone take a humble position such as teaching. 

“I look forward to working with you,” they bowed in greeting their new colleagues. The pair kindly kept the formalities to a minimum: simply wished them a good night’s sleep and allowed the exhausted Byleth to retire to their new chambers with plenty of thoughts rolling around their head. 

On their bed, sleep would not come easily, taunting with heavy lids and sore muscles. Byleth raised a hand to their chest, ever since that strange girl Sothis had come to reside in their psyche everything seemed to appear a little brighter. A little more interesting. 

“Is it because I was going to die? I didn’t want to die,” Byleth mused, their mind wandered to the surprised expression of the white haired girl when she was shielded from harm's way. A chuckle escaped their lips thinking back on the day. Edelgard von Hresvelg of the Adrestian Empire, had she felt that connection too? Sothis awakened because Byleth was to perish or was it something else? That ‘spark’ they had felt before time had stalled.

“It doesn’t really matter why I woke up, it was lucky that I did and that’s that,” Sothis interrupted their musings, yawning terribly hard, “Go to sleep, I suspect tomorrow will be another eventful day in a series of rather troublesome ones to come, you can think about your pretty girl when morning comes,”

Byleth turned around onto their side feeling a little annoyed at the disturbance; nonetheless they did as they were told. Sothis seemed trustworthy and as lost as Byleth felt to be. There was no use thinking about something they didn’t have enough information about. And Edelgard was a student at the monastery, there would be plenty of times to tackle this new found interest.

Byleth’s last thought slipped through the brink of slumber, _ ‘This might be the first time I’ve wanted to know about someone other than father.’  _


End file.
